


i think

by HeavyHeartstrings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drama & Romance, Friends to Lovers, M/M, emotionally unintelligent fools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23285668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavyHeartstrings/pseuds/HeavyHeartstrings
Summary: Sharing a bed; some love it and some hate it.Iwaizumi can't decide which he is.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 29
Kudos: 332





	1. Chapter 1

In their childhood, it wasn’t unusual for Oikawa and Iwaizumi to share a bed when one stayed at the other’s house. Often times they stayed up late into the night, blankets pulled over their heads and voices hushed so their parents wouldn’t hear and come in to scold them. They’d talk, play their Nintendo DSs together (which mainly consisted of Oikawa sending stupid drawings to him on PictoChat) or if they were feeling really risky, sneak out into the living room and borrow Oikawa’s family laptop to watch a movie.

Oikawa was always the first to pass out too. No matter how hard he tried or how much he boasted that he’d _finally_ stay up past Iwa-chan, Oikawa without fail would doze off without even realizing. One morning after they woke up, Oikawa proclaimed that sleeping came much easier to him when Iwaizumi laid next to him. Six-year old Iwaizumi nodded and said that he felt the same way. There was something safe about sleeping next to your best friend.

Oikawa also had a habit of needing to touch Iwaizumi when they slept together. Whether it was a hand to his back or a leg tangled in with his own, Oikawa always had to have some kind of contact with Iwaizumi. Even if Iwaizumi removed Oikawa’s limbs from him after he fell asleep first, his friend would subconsciously latch back onto him, sometimes gripping him even tighter than before. It was as if he instinctively craved contact while he slept. Iwaizumi didn’t think he was like that, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to wake up and have a hand bunched in Oikawa’s loose t-shirt, or his face in Oikawa’s hair.

Now all these things weren’t an issue for Iwaizumi.

Well, when they were kids.

But as boys get older, it becomes established that sharing a bed together isn’t exactly the norm. So, when they’re twelve and Oikawa comes crawling onto his bed next to him, Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow.

“There’s an air mattress there for a reason,” Iwaizumi points out, holding a finger up to the temporary bed set up next to his own on the ground. Oikawa pauses, looks at it, then his face scrunches up and he shakes his head back and forth.

“There’s probably a hole in it. I don’t want to wake up on the hard ground,” Oikawa returns.

“There’s no hole in it. My cousins used it a couple weeks ago and they were fine,” Iwaizumi assures, crossing his arms in front of him.

Oikawa’s cheeks puff up. “Other people use it? Gross, now I’m really not sleeping on it.”

Iwaizumi frowns and gives Oikawa’s shoulder a sudden shove. His friend gasps, reaching arms out to try and steady himself, only to lose his balance and tumble backwards off the edge of the bed. Iwaizumi hears him plop onto the air mattress with a few rebounding bounces and grins when he hears Oikawa’s groan after that.

“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean.”

Iwaizumi smiles as he shifts under his blanket, lying on his side, propping an elbow up and resting his head against his hand to peer over the edge of the bed. Oikawa is on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling with a pout on his face. Oikawa’s gaze shifts to Iwaizumi’s when he catches him staring and sits up, hands in his lap. He seems upset.

“Why can’t we share a bed like we used to?” He asks earnestly.

Iwaizumi blinks. He didn’t expect Oikawa to care so much. “We’re not little kids anymore. Sharing a bed is weird,” he states.

At least, that’s what he gathered after his parents suggested setting up the mattress for Oikawa’s stay and Iwaizumi said he didn’t mind sharing his bed, only to have his parents stare at each other, then him unsurely. Something about the look made Iwaizumi’s stomach clench and he corrected himself quickly, saying that the air mattress would be fine and he’d set it up shortly. He turned around hastily and walked back to his room with his gaze on his feet and a small frown.

Another disgruntled sound comes from Oikawa. “I know girls in our class share beds when they have sleepovers.” He points out.

“No you don’t,” Iwaizumi comments back right away. “And it’s different with girls,” he adds.

Something pricks him in his chest watching Oikawa’s expression fall after he says that. He wants to take it back just so that look goes away, but for some reason he keeps his mouth shut as Oikawa nods dejectedly and moves under his blanket without a word. When his best friend rolls away so his back is facing him and sighs sadly, Iwaizumi scowls and narrows his eyes, some of the guilt falling away. Always so dramatic.

He reaches for the lamp on his nightstand and pauses before he tugs the switch, sparing the back of Oikawa’s head another glance. Would it really be that weird if he let Oikawa stay in his bed? Iwaizumi himself doesn’t really see the issue with it, especially if it makes him stop being such a baby about the situation. It’s not like his parents would come check on them in the middle of the night either.

Iwaizumi’s hand releases the string of the lamp and he exhales quietly. “Hey,” he says quietly.

He watches Oikawa’s head turn enough to glance at him curiously. Iwaizumi shifts backwards on the mattress, nodding his head at the now free space on the bed and within seconds, Oikawa’s eyes spring back to life and he all but leaps on the bed to occupy his space. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but a playful grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.

From then on, anytime Oikawa stays at Iwaizumi’s, he sets up the air mattress only as a means of keeping his parent’s attention off them. When Iwaizumi stays at Oikawa’s, his friend never bothers to try and keep up appearances, having no problem with the fact that they shared a bed. Iwaizumi doesn’t have a problem with it either, even if most times they share a bad he wakes up with Oikawa’s dead weight on him.

That is, until his teen years.

What was once considered innocent as children feels anything but the sort as they continue to get older. Hormones for one, throw a nasty wrench into play, causing the lines of their relationship to feel blurry at times. One morning when Iwaizumi is sixteen, he wakes up with Oikawa’s face nestled into his neck. His slow, warm breath is continuous on his neck and Oikawa’s lips are pressed into the skin gently. Iwaizumi blinks tired eyes a couple times and then when he becomes more conscious of reality and the way Oikawa’s breath sends shivers down his back, he tenses up. Even more so when Iwaizumi feels a deep heat between his legs. He glances down sharply at the blankets and is thankful that the thick material doesn’t show anything through.

Oikawa makes a small noise at the sudden movement and his hand rubs Iwaizumi’s chest while he nuzzles his face deeper into Iwaizumi’s neck. Heat gathers in Iwaizumi’s face, maybe even his entire body and he instinctively pulls away from Oikawa, sitting up and beelining it for the bathroom even when he hears Oikawa’s sleepy, confused voice calling his name from behind.

After that, Iwaizumi is reluctant to share a bed again. That’s obvious enough for him, but Oikawa doesn’t have the slightest of clues that Iwaizumi gets anxious when his best friend invites him over two weeks later to stay the night and re-watch one of their most recent games. Iwaizumi doesn’t want to say no either, because Oikawa will catch on right away that something is up. In their entire friendship, there’s only been a handful of times they couldn’t hangout, like if one of them got sick or had to go visit family. Iwaizumi is neither sick nor going to visit family, so he reluctantly accepts the invitation and silently harbours nervousness as the weekend draws near.

The one silver lining in the situation is that Oikawa has a bigger bed than himself. The brat sleeps in a queen, giving them a lot more space than his sad little twin, which forces them together regardless of choice. But maybe this way, he can put some distance between them.

Of course, when the night comes and Iwaizumi lies down with his back to Oikawa facing the edge of the bed, he feels Oikawa shifting closer to him. A hand settles on his lower back, shuffling up his shirt to rest against his skin. Any other time in the past, Iwaizumi wouldn’t have minded. But now, there’s another layer to this whole bed-sharing situation that messes with Iwaizumi’s judgement and it scares him if he’s honest.

Iwaizumi opens his eyes, staring across the dark room with a tense expression. “Oi. You really need to do that?” He asks.

Oikawa releases a drawn-out yawn before giving a simple, ‘yes’ and saying nothing else.

“How much longer am I going to have to share a bed with you like this?” Iwaizumi grumbles out.

“Mmm, forever.” Oikawa answers easily and dozes off within minutes. Iwaizumi shuts his eyes tightly and listens to Oikawa’s breathing steadying out. He finds this rather unfair.

“Stupid Asskawa,” Iwaizumi mutters into the quiet, dark room.

That night, it takes him much longer than usual to fall asleep.

He wakes up in the same position the next morning. Much to his chagrin, Oikawa’s hand has moved from the small of his back to around Iwaizumi’s middle with his hand pressed to his bare stomach. The space where his hand rests is hot and there are tight knots in Iwaizumi’s belly that he becomes more aware of as the haziness of sleep clears his mind. He doesn’t have to look down this time to know what’s going on with his body.

He grips Oikawa’s wrist and flings it off him fiercely, again sitting up sharply and rising to go to the bathroom. He misses Oikawa sitting up, rubbing his eyes and cocking his head to the side.

When he comes back into the room more composed, Oikawa has his phone in front of him, thumb scrolling through various posts. His attention is drawn up to Iwaizumi, smiling sleepily.

“Everything okay, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks.

Suddenly, Iwaizumi becomes aware. Too aware of the situation at hand. He’s staring at Oikawa blankly, his best friend wearing one of Iwaizumi’s old shirts that he borrowed ages ago and never gave back. He should be annoyed by that and a small part of him is, but a much larger part appreciates how it looks on him. Especially because it’s his. Fuck.

“Yea. Had to pee,” he lies.

Iwaizumi doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to be able to tolerate these sleepovers anymore. As time passes, he’s lead to believe they’re messing with his everyday interactions with Oikawa. Anytime he sees him, he gets urges to be close by his side. To run his fingers through Oikawa’s thick, chestnut hair. To pull him flush against his body.

These thoughts not only embarrass Iwaizumi and make him antsy, but they entice him. And they make him lose track of reality sometimes when he finds himself spacing out in class staring at the back of Oikawa’s head or when he watches Oikawa practice serves. If his friend is as perceptive as he thinks, he must have noticed something different in Iwaizumi’s behaviour. Oikawa says nothing about it though, so he’s not a hundred percent certain. If he does know, Iwaizumi is fine with it not being addressed.

Call Iwaizumi a shmuck, an idiot, a loser or all three. He knows his place- knows that no matter how many nights he sleeps next to Oikawa in ways that would make anyone question the matter of their relationship, he’d always be the best friend. That’s it. 

But something inside a deep part of his mind hopes that one day, he can be more than that. And that slim hope is what Iwaizumi foolishly clings to, justifying the few nights a month he allows Oikawa to hold him while they sleep. The days leading up to their plans always feel painstakingly long to Iwaizumi. And the days after are hard, because he knows it will be a long time before it happens again. It’s pathetic, how his attraction for Oikawa has turned him into someone so needy at these times.

Iwaizumi is eighteen when he admits to himself what he feels for Oikawa is love. He’s probably known it longer, but it’s hard to understand everything because there’s no way for Iwaizumi to channel his thoughts into something actionable. He knows that there are times when he itches to grab Oikawa and kiss him senseless, but turning those fantasies into reality is a bridge he doesn’t dare to risk crossing. Still, his thoughts make that jump day in and day out.

Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa hasn’t grown tired of his cycle of women as time passed. There are periods of time when he’s seeing a girl, when he’s seeing multiple girls, and when he’s pretending like he isn’t seeing any girls to save face. Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa tells any of the girls he dates that he also sometimes spends nights curled at Iwaizumi’s side. He quickly shuts that down. Of course he wouldn’t.

One night, no different than any other, Oikawa stays up later than normal. Iwaizumi doesn’t notice and is starting to doze off himself when Oikawa’s foot shuffles against one of his own.

“Iwa-chan?” His hushed voice questions.

Iwaizumi makes a sound of acknowledgement, his eyes still closed.

“Do you like it when we sleep together?”

His words and tone take time to register. When they do, Iwaizumi senses the question is more loaded than it lets on and tilts his head before opening his eyes to observe Oikawa. He’s laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, but lets his eyes drop to meet Iwaizumi’s. There’s something raw in his gaze that Oikawa doesn’t show often. Something that the late hour brings out in a person.

Iwaizumi rolls onto his side and drapes an arm around his middle without thinking much, closing his eyes as he speaks honestly. “Yea, it’s what I look forward to most. Other than your snoring.”

He doesn’t see Oikawa staring at him with wide eyes. But he hears Oikawa’s immediate denial of snoring and Iwaizumi tells him to shut up and go to sleep.

That night, Iwaizumi’s dreams are vivid. Dreams of mid-summer, when the heat is so strong you can feel it in your blood. He inhales and warm air fills his lungs, starting to create a noticeable tightness in his chest. It’s almost unbearable. One moment he’s in the gym at volleyball practice with his team, the next he’s watching Oikawa throw a ball up and preparing to serve it. Iwaizumi blinks as Oikawa is mid-air, slapping the ball and when he opens his eyes, everything is different. They’re in the changeroom. It’s hotter than before. Oikawa says something that gets filtered like he’s behind glass, then gives him a devilish smirk and removes his shirt. Iwaizumi notices a spark shooting down his back.

Blinks again and he’s outside now in front of the school, finding it harder to breath properly. Shallow inhales and exhales pass through him, not giving his lungs air quick enough. There’s a pooling warmth in his lower belly, growing tighter and tighter as his timeless dream continues. Iwaizumi wants to be rid of it so badly, swallowing thickly and craving release. Oikawa’s voice comes from somewhere and Iwaizumi turns his head every which way only to see no one around him. Another blink and then he’s in his room, laying in bed. It’s the morning. Him and Oikawa face each other on their sides and Iwaizumi sees sunlight filtering in and making Oikawa’s pale skin appear ethereal. He reaches a hand between them to cup his cheek, brushing a thumb along the top of Oikawa’s cheekbone.

Oikawa closes his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. Iwaizumi smiles back and then in the next moment it’s hot again. Mid-summer heat rolls over his body in waves and suddenly, there’s a weight on his hips. He looks up and Oikawa is on top of him, hands resting on his chest and staring down at Iwaizumi with another smile, bigger this time. And more wicked.

The pressure inside of him builds. Iwaizumi feels sweat dampening the roots of his hair. He shifts uncomfortably and a shot of adrenaline fires up his body. His brain doesn’t work through it logically, something animalistic and instinctive taking place and immediately searching for a way to get that feeling again. There’s movement against him and Iwaizumi moans. Something is off though, the sounds he makes stirring his mind.

He shifts again and this time it’s the sound of Oikawa gasping vividly that awakens Iwaizumi in a haze. All he seems to register in the few seconds his eyes blink open is that it’s still the middle of the night. That aching, hot feeling is still inside of him and his mind is fuzzy; it’s what makes Iwaizumi think he’s still dreaming.

Until his other senses kick in slowly and as he stirs, he realizes that he’s got Oikawa pulled to his side, his hand still on his middle. Oikawa has a leg hiked up and over both of Iwaizumi’s, pressed into one of his thighs. Iwaizumi, mostly half-asleep, stares and licks his dry lips.

Oikawa makes a sound and shuffles too, his knee brushing against the front of Iwaizumi’s pants. He can’t help the half-surprised, half-excited gasp that comes out, getting that familiar burst of pleasure at the slight friction. He feels Oikawa shuffle again and Iwaizumi opens his eyes halfway to see his friend’s head raised, eyes blinking sleepily and owl-like down at him.

Iwaizumi has no words. He doesn’t know if his voice is capable of producing a coherent sentence. The mixture of surprise, fear (and the excitement) keep him silent.

Oikawa doesn’t say anything either, his face close to Iwaizumi’s and his eyes observing. Then he watches Oikawa’s gaze drop to his lips and just like his dream- the moment changes drastically in the blink of an eye. Oikawa leans down and presses his lips to Iwaizumi’s fiercely, hands bunching the front of his shirt.

Instinct takes over right away, like the dream. Logic and reasoning aren’t present right now, Iwaizumi’s body running on the high of hormones and the thrilling burst in his chest as Oikawa’s lips part almost right away into open-mouthed kisses. Maybe if his brain was filled with anything other than the thought of how _good_ this feels and how he doesn’t want it to stop, Iwaizumi wouldn’t have tightened his hold on Oikawa’s waist. And maybe he wouldn’t have pulled Oikawa on top of him seconds later like he was in the dream and moaned quietly when he felt Oikawa’s heat through his sweatpants.

But he does. And Iwaizumi can confidently say there’s nothing else that has ever brought him to such heights before. It’s all he can do not to finish right away, that pressure inside of him so fierce it’s almost painful now. Oikawa’s tongue is running slowly along his lips and Iwaizumi’s free hand moves behind his head to deepen their exchanges. His hair is soft as he grips it tightly and Oikawa shifts atop of him, hips grinding against Iwaizumi’s. He breaks the kiss to gasp quietly.

The hand on Oikawa’s waist shifts down until he has a handful of his behind and grips tightly, fingers squeezing and kneading. A small noise escapes Oikawa mid-kiss and he shifts his hips down on Iwaizumi again in response. A crack of pleasure hits Iwaizumi right behind the eyes and this time he draws out a louder moan. Oikawa preoccupies him with more heated kisses to keep him quiet as they continue to rock against each other.

Iwaizumi is close. Embarrassing to admit if he was in a clear state of mind, yet he can feel the intensity inside his core peaking. Oikawa almost seems to sense this, breaking apart from Iwaizumi’s lips to stare down at his body and hike his shirt up to his chest. Then a hand slides beneath the waistband of his pants and boxers in one movement and Iwaizumi sees stars, raising his chin and exhaling. Oikawa’s warm hand curls around him and he curses quietly. Oikawa nestles himself on top of Iwaizumi’s chest, a knee on either side of him and face pressed into the skin between his neck and shoulder. He feels Oikawa’s teeth dragging along the sensitive skin, then his tongue poking out to tease him even more so as he gets Iwaizumi off.

“Tooru-“ he whispers, but Iwaizumi’s eyes shut and his toes curl all of a sudden. His grip on Oikawa tightens with the stiffness that overtakes his body at once, every muscle feeling like it’s seizing up uncontrollably. His eyes could have been open, but for all Iwaizumi knows he blacked out as his head is thrown back into his pillow, back arching a few inches off the bed. He feels himself finishing in Oikawa’s hand, coming undone and choking on a mixture of a gasp and another attempt at saying Oikawa’s name.

Oikawa continues to pump him lazily as liquid hits his stomach and Iwaizumi’s hips jerk from the overstimulation, releasing shaky breaths and feeling his heart hammering in his ribcage. Iwaizumi’s hand on Oikawa’s butt moves shakily around the front of his sweatpants to grip the outline of his erection through the fabric. At the same time, he feels Oikawa’s teeth kneading the skin on his neck a little rougher and his hand releases Iwaizumi gently, dragging his nails across the skin of his hips.

Iwaizumi palms Oikawa until he hears a quiet, shaky moan next to his ear and then both of his hands shift to Oikawa’s hips to shuffle his pants down. Iwaizumi gets another buzzing in his head when he notices Oikawa isn’t wearing anything else underneath and let’s go of his pants when they’re partway down his thighs. Iwaizumi drags his hand against the inside of Oikawa’s leg upward until he’s got a handful of him. He curls his fingers and starts flicking his wrist. Oikawa whines against his neck and Iwaizumi’s other hand still tangled in his hair clenches tightly, raising his head enough to kiss him again.

Oikawa’s kisses are sloppy, his tongue overlapping with Iwaizumi’s like he’s in a hurry. His skin is hot to the touch just like his own, feverish almost. Only minutes later Oikawa is breaking apart and pulls back from their kisses, shaking his head back and forth and murmuring in broken words that he's close. Iwaizumi pulls him back in, pressing their forehead together and watching Oikawa’s eyes widen. Moments pass, Oikawa’s eyes shut halfway and he shudders against Iwaizumi, lips parted and all but mewling when he finishes, spilling onto Iwaizumi’s stomach. His expression is burned into Iwaizumi’s memory like he’s been branded with it.

The sound of panting is all that’s left in the room. Iwaizumi loosens his grip in Oikawa’s hair and his head drops gently back to Iwaizumi’s neck. His breath is hot on Iwaizumi’s skin and he rests his cheek atop of Oikawa’s head, releasing him and reaching to hike his pants back up. Iwaizumi fumbles his hand over to the nightstand, patting around until he finds the handle of the drawer and opens it. He grabs a few tissues and cleans the mess off his stomach before tossing them in the trash.

And then they both fall asleep within minutes, like nothing happened in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

Oikawa sees love the way one sees a game. Like it’s a win or lose situation, depending on the way he plays his hand. To his advantage, the cards he’s been dealt put him ahead of most; looks, height and a charm that most fall prey to right away. Each and every word and action is calculated pre-emptively, always thinking two steps ahead in the hopes that he takes the win every single time. Naturally, Oikawa gets better at the game of love as he gets older. Gets used to using the lines that girls fall for without fail, or the way their eyes light up when he accepts their invitation for a date. It becomes too easy when he hits high school. At any point in time, there is at least a handful of girls vying for his affection. Or maybe just his attention.

Most times Oikawa assumes it’s the latter. He can’t say it really bugs him, because often times that’s only what he wants too.

The thing about love, is Oikawa gets bored of it. The chase is practically nonexistent. There’s never any resistance, anyone who challenges him enough to feel like an equal. Putting on the smiles and the flirtatious behaviour comes easy. The girls come easier. Oikawa finds nothing entertaining about going on a date when he already knows by the end of the night, he’s going to get what he wants. The dates are hardly a thing to remember, the girls even more so. The ones who boldly declare their love to his face are the same ones who leave just days later. All in all, the novelty of love seems to have worn off from his heart, leaving Oikawa only searching for a way to satisfy either his boredom or his crave for touch when he dates someone.

Some girls last longer than others. Some are one-time deals, others stay around longer than Oikawa would have preferred. Some end things before he can, yet it never leaves Oikawa feeling heartbroken. Down in the dumps, sure, but that’s due to a bruising of his ego if anything. It’s probably because there’s never been anyone he’s cared enough about to invest himself that deeply into. The girls who break up with him always seem much more upset than himself anyway.

When one girl walks out, three more come in and soon the faces all seem to look the same to Oikawa. There’s been a few dates with guys too, but most aren’t daring enough to do anything worthwhile with him. Once upon a time there were days when Oikawa enjoyed all of the attention, the flirting, the grand gestures and gifts. He remembers getting excited and anticipated for what possibilities could lie ahead.

But date after date, girl after girl (and the occasional boy), things always seem to feel the same way. Boring. There is the occasional person who will spark his interest for a short period of time, but Oikawa grows accustom to the whole love game and thinks it’s blown out of proportion. It’s all surface level nonsense to him.

He’s heard about the fairy-tale, movie romances just as anyone else. The kind of love that’s supposed to knock you off your feet, sucker punch you behind the head and leave you wheezing for air, but the love Oikawa received and gave didn’t impose any such feelings on him in any sense of the word. So, he deemed himself someone who was good at love, but didn’t particularly care for it. He got his fill when it was needed, whether it was the attention of a girl or her lips. Nothing more than that and he’s always been fine that way.

Years and years of thinking and living this way has put Oikawa in a sort of tower. One that serves as a constant reminder that though he’s surrounded by those who claim they’re all in love with him, Oikawa believes there's no one who really does.

“Oikawa? You’re home earlier than normal.”

Oikawa shuffles his shoes off and sets them neatly to the side. He glances at Takeru, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder and shrugging. “Iwa-chan wasn’t feeling well this morning. I didn’t want to disturb him,” he explains.

His nephew raises an eyebrow. “And you didn’t offer to look after him? Some friend you are,” he comments offhandedly. He looks away from the door entrance and walks towards the kitchen, clearly not interested in continuing the conversation. Oikawa glares at the spot Takeru stood in before sighing and walking towards his room. He sits on the edge of his bed, dropping his duffel bag in front of his feet with a careless thump and thinking to himself for minutes.

“Some friend I am,” he echoes quietly to himself, falling backwards with a bounce against his mattress and blinking up at the ceiling.

What happened with Iwaizumi wasn’t bad. Oikawa knew that going into the situation, even if he was half-delirious from sleep. Yes, it was the first time going that far with another guy. Still, the idea didn’t frighten him in the slightest and it still doesn’t now; there has been an unspoken part of Oikawa that has acknowledged his attraction for men sometime ago. He always thought Iwaizumi is good-looking too, despite the consistent teasing about his forehead, so it makes sense for him to be enticed by fooling around with him.

It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was probably the best someone has ever made Oikawa feel. That detail should have raised some questions, but Oikawa figures what happened with Iwaizumi is like what happened with any other temporary girl he took to bed- the only difference being they know each other better. Just a one-off night, doing each other a favour. Oikawa is confident that Iwaizumi has never been with anyone like that before, so he’s really being a good friend by doing this. At least that’s what he tells himself to justify it.

But a bigger part of him starts to say something different. Oikawa actually feels unsure about what happened the day after, when he puts some thought into it. Thinks that he crossed a line without giving it enough thought and trouble is soon to follow.

And of course it is. If the situation isn’t controversial enough on its own, Oikawa didn’t do himself any favours by leaving Iwaizumi’s house before he woke up without a goodbye or sending a text. That wasn’t a very mature way to react in hindsight.

But, what was he supposed to do- Wake Iwaizumi up, kiss him and thank him for a good lay? That surely would have resulted in a punch to the throat at the very least. No, this is simply part of the deal, no different than any other person he's been with. There’s nothing to talk about anyway- at least that’s what Oikawa thinks. What happened already happened and that’s it.

Except that’s wrong. Because for the rest of the weekend Oikawa doesn’t hear from Iwaizumi. He usually texts him at least once, to make sure Oikawa has finished his homework, yet he receives no calls, no texts, no new notifications. It sends these red, flashing warning lights off in Oikawa's head.

 _Bad_. What you did was _bad_ , his conscience says.

He starts to wonder if Iwaizumi is mad about what happened. Or maybe he regrets it. Previous boys he’s been with often felt some sort of regret when they went on dates with him, because most were experimenting secretly. Oikawa always assumed Iwaizumi’s sexuality, but clearly there’s more to it that he doesn’t know about.

And Oikawa realizes he had a lack of concern for what Iwaizumi might have been thinking during their exchanges. Yes, they were both very eager to please, but Oikawa knows for a fact that he only cared about his own selfish needs and Iwaizumi was the means of getting there. Maybe Oikawa didn’t feel bad about behaving such a way with the random girls that meant nothing, but Iwaizumi is far from that standard.

And so after some time to think, Oikawa decides an apology is in order.

He doesn’t get Iwaizumi’s, _I’m here_ text like every other school morning. Oikawa tries not to let that extra little detail settle into the pile of uncertainty building in his mind. He also doesn’t make an attempt to text him in the morning though either, because that looming thought of- _was this a mistake_? makes a nasty habit of reappearing several times as he walks to school. He starts biting his lips, a nasty habit he thought he curbed years ago, with his hands in his pockets and eyes trained on the ground in front of him. There are just certain things you shouldn’t do, and Oikawa is now learning that hooking up with your best friend is one of them.

When he walks into his first class of the morning, Iwaizumi is already sitting at his desk, notes on his desk and writing something down. He doesn’t look up, even as a few girls chirp out greetings to Oikawa. That isn’t really indicative of anything, based off the way Iwaizumi tends to ignore him when girls shower themselves around him and yet, it adds to the doubt.

He walks to his seat, right in front of Iwaizumi’s. His friend’s eyes finally flicker up to meet his as Oikawa is pulling his chair out from his desk.

“Morning, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says sweetly, eyes closed and cocking his head to the side.

Iwaizumi stares a moment before letting his eyes drop back to his notes.

Oh, he’s _pissed._

Fights with Iwaizumi aren’t uncommon. When you’ve been friends with someone for nearly your whole life, a fight here and there is inevitable. Sometimes the conflicts are big, whereas most are small and rather petty. No matter the issue though, Oikawa and Iwaizumi always find a way to hash it out. That’s just what happens with best friends- you realize the relationship is more important than whatever problem you’re going through or how big your ego is.

This time, Oikawa isn’t so sure. 

It’s due in part, to the way Iwaizumi is acting. He trails alongside Oikawa from class to class, sits by his side at lunch and calls for tosses during practice like any other day. Aside from this, he says nothing to Oikawa, other than responding to his occasional experimental questions with short and clipped responses. As the day progresses, Oikawa becomes certain that he is the cause for such behaviour and decides that it needs to be curbed as soon as possible if he wants things to go back to normal.

It’s when they’re walking home after practice that Oikawa apologizes. He doesn’t expect Iwaizumi’s footsteps to falter seconds after the words leave his mouth, Oikawa pausing as well to look over his shoulder curiously. He turns around fully when he sees the skepticism in Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“What’s there to be sorry about?” Iwaizumi asks him after a moment or two of silence.

Oikawa isn’t expecting that kind of a response. He breaks eyes contact for a moment, thinking _I don’t know, shouldn’t you be telling me? You’re the one being weird._

“I guess- what happened on the weekend… between us…” He trails off awkwardly, waving a hand slowly.

Iwaizumi’s expression remains neutral, frustratingly enough. “What about it?” He asks.

Oikawa is starting to feel bizarre, like _he’s_ the one getting caught up in the details about their hook up. Is he assuming things incorrectly? “You…seem angry with me. I thought it was because of what happened.”

Iwaizumi blinks. “I’m not.”

One of Oikawa’s eyebrows arches in disbelief. “You haven’t said much today. Or over the weekend.”

Iwaizumi shrugs a shoulder. “I have nothing to say.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Well, okay.”

They’re in uncharted territory. Oikawa is wildly uncomfortable right now, the tension between them thicker than before. Iwaizumi starts walking again and the two of them remain silent until they’re about to part ways.

“Actually, there is something I want to say, Tooru,” Iwaizumi says, stopping in front of Oikawa’s house.

Oikawa swallows a dry lump at the use of his name and nods his head, turning around to face Iwaizumi and resisting the urge to tap his fingers against his thigh nervously. “What is it?”

Iwaizumi holds his gaze before he speaks, voice calm yet confident. “I’m not one of your trophy girls. Don’t use me like one ever again.”

Iwaizumi walks away after that. Oikawa watches him, eyes wide and lips turned down.

Weeks after that they should be hanging out, but Oikawa doesn’t invite Iwaizumi over because things are still tense. His friend says nothing of it, which makes Oikawa even more peeved about the situation. He’s been reeling over Iwaizumi’s words- when he’s getting ready for school in the morning, when he’s supposed to be focusing in class, even at dinner when the rest of his family is chatting about their day. Oikawa is trying to figure out a way to do something about it, but it’s like figuring out a way for one plus one to equal three.

This situation is unique than any other previously. He didn’t think Iwaizumi would take this so personally. And Oikawa didn’t think he would either- getting so invested in the fact that he made Iwaizumi feel like shit. But reflecting on what happened and what has been said leaves him in his head, spiraling into a defeated state.

If he was guilty before, he’s reeling in it now. Maybe if he knew what would have happened he wouldn’t have initiated the whole thing, but it’s too late for thoughts like that and they aren’t going to get him anywhere either. He just feels as though he’s shattered the glass ceiling and it’s pouring rain everywhere now, without any warning of letting up soon. Iwaizumi might say he’s fine and he’s not mad, but the way he acts in front of Oikawa suggests differently. It eats at Oikawa day in and out.

It makes sense why Iwaizumi is mad. Oikawa did treat him like one of the disposable girls he dates on the regular, thinking that everything would be fine because they’re friends. Now, he looks back and wants to slap himself upside the head- what was he _thinking?_ What must Iwaizumi have thought when he woke up the next day only to see Oikawa’s belongings gone and no message left for him? That Oikawa got what he wanted of him and that’s all that mattered? The thought alone makes Oikawa cringe uncomfortably. He has to do something about this.

Days pass and after practice later that week, Oikawa is called aside by a girl he doesn’t recognize when he walks out of the changeroom. He already has a good guess as to what she wants to talk about and as soon as the girl starts flushing when they’re standing alone, it’s pretty much confirmed. Oikawa is about to release an exhale and immediately shut her down, but catches movement in his peripheral and sees Iwaizumi standing outside of the changeroom, dead stare locked onto him. Oikawa doesn’t miss the cold look in his eyes before Iwaizumi turns and walks off.

He turns his attention back to the girl for an entirety of thirty seconds before his resolve breaks and excuses himself quickly, not really caring about the way her lips part in surprise when he immediately follows after Iwaizumi. “Wait, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa calls.

Iwaizumi does not wait, even though Oikawa knows he can hear him. So he runs to catch up with him, falling into a walk and panting to recapture his breath. “Why’d you leave without me?”

Iwaizumi’s voice is hollow as he speaks. “You were busy,” he points out.

Oikawa stares at him keenly, but Iwaizumi’s eyes remain set straight ahead, refusing to meet his own. “You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” Oikawa asks after a trail of silence.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, still not looking at him. “I’m not,” he insists, then corrects himself. “I wasn’t mad in the first place.”

Oikawa stops in his tracks, fists balled at his side. “Stop lying to me, Iwaizumi.” He grits out frustratedly. It’s bugging him that Iwaizumi isn’t being truthful. He’s supposed to be the one to tell Oikawa everything. It’s as though there’s a growing gap between them, making Iwaizumi feel more distant than ever before. Oikawa tries not to pay mind to the needles poking his belly repeatedly after he thinks about it. “You know I can tell when you’re not telling the truth.”

He hears Iwaizumi sighing. There’s something weary in the way his shoulders slump. He stops, glancing over his shoulder at Oikawa. “There’s nothing to be mad about, seriously.” He says simply, looking ahead and continuing to walk.

Oikawa grits his teeth, staring and seeing that invisible gap grow larger between them. He runs to catch up again and his voice is rising unconsciously with the anger flooding through him. It’s because he knows Iwaizumi is being stubborn at this point. When he’s upset, he tries to keep it all to himself to silently harbour. “Why are things different between us then!?” Oikawa demands, grabbing Iwaizumi’s arm.

That makes Iwaizumi stop. Oikawa tenses, a vice grip coils around his heart at the sadness in his friend’s eyes. “Because it’s hard to be around you now.” Iwaizumi states.

Oikawa releases his grip, taken aback. His jaw falls slack and eyes meet the ground. “So, you are mad.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “No, it’s not that,” he takes a moment to think on his words. “You apologized for what happened because you felt bad for me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it’s hard to accept,” he explains. “I’ll get over it soon.” Iwaizumi mumbles.

Oikawa’s eyebrows furrow, the words flying over his head completely. “What?” He asks, dumbfounded.

Iwaizumi sighs at his expression, closing his eyes. “Don’t, Oikawa. I'll seriously hit you,” he mutters.

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa tries, but comes up with nothing else, so he shakes his head back and forth.

A look of uncertainty appears on Iwaizumi’s face. “You’re really going to make me spell it out for you?”

Oikawa’s head feels light, like the oxygen has left his brain all at once. “I-I don’t-“

“I’m in love with you, moron,” Iwaizumi cuts over him impatiently.

He says it so easily, like he’s scolding Oikawa for a toss that was too low.

All Oikawa can manage at first is a blink. 

It’s by far the worst confession he’s ever received and yet, for the first time in his life Oikawa feels like he’s been knocked off his feet. Air stolen from his lungs, leaving him breathless. Sucker punched in the face without warning. Kicked in the gut and cracked over the head with a wooden bat, splitting into pieces upon impact. Oikawa blinks, eyes wide. He’s speechless for once. Words… what words could he have right now? Nothing tangible, that’s for sure.

There’s discomfort in Iwaizumi’s eyes the longer he’s silent, but Oikawa is damned if he can do anything about it at the moment. His lips part in an attempt to kickstart himself into speaking, but his voice is non-existent and so Oikawa continues to stare dumbly with his lips parted.

The first thought that comes to mind is- _how could I not have known?_ And Iwaizumi looks down to the side, tongue running over his bottom lip nervously. Then he looks back at Oikawa and opens his mouth to say something else, but pauses, surprise abruptly filling his eyes.

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asks gently.

His voice actually produces sound when he tries to speak, though it’s shaky. “Yeah?”

Iwaizumi’s lips press together for a moment before he speaks. “You’re crying.”

“Am I?”

Oikawa thought this thing with Iwaizumi was the same as any other before. He thought he wouldn’t care just ‘cause he hooked up with a friend for a change. He thought this was all part of the game of love, that there was only winners and losers and heartbreakers and heartbroken. He thought he was locked away high off the ground in his tower from all the other lovesick fools. He thought he already experienced all love had to offer and it was exaggerated nonsense. Nothing real.

Oh, how wrong he thought. This is real. It’s not a game. Iwaizumi is more to him than that. So much more than anyone else. He knows that- he’s _always_ known that, so it’s odd that it’s hitting him like a new revelation parting from the clouds in a ray of sunlight. Iwaizumi tore his tower down with one simple sentence, cracking the foundation and sending it crumbling to the ground.

Iwaizumi steps closer, concern in his eyes. “Yea.”

Oikawa reaches a hand up to his eyes and indeed, brushes wetness away. It’s been a long time since he’s cried about anything not volleyball related. His face feels hot to the touch and the prickling behind his eyes grows stronger.

“Forgive me, Hajime,” Oikawa sniffles, trying to cover his face.

“I don’t understand.” Iwaizumi mumbles embarrassedly. He’s not used to hearing Oikawa say his name, probably.

Oikawa swallows a lump down his dry throat as tears fall from his chin to the ground. “I hurt you, without even realizing it. I-I was so stupid-”

“I told you, I’m not mad,” Iwaizumi replies patiently.

It snaps something inside of Oikawa without warning. “Would you just- would you stop with that!?” He barks out. It’s so unlike Iwaizumi to be this patient with him and at a time like this, hearing it makes Oikawa feel more guilty.

Iwaizumi stares blankly, then stays silent. Oikawa grits his teeth, releasing a small grumble to himself. He’s getting flustered, his heart racing and palms sweating. It's difficult to recall the last time that happened around someone.

“Do you really mean it?” Oikawa asks unsurely.

“What?” Iwaizumi returns.

Oikawa’s gaze drops to the ground again. “Do you really love me?” He asks, the words sounding unbelievable when he says it.

Iwaizumi folds his arms over his chest, scowling with a flush to his cheeks. “Did I not just _say_ it?” He gripes back.

Oikawa closes his eyes, unable to resist the doubt hanging over him. He always thought no one could really love him. It’s unnerving and shaken him up so badly because for once it feels real and it’s coming from someone who already means so much to him. Of course, now that he’s actually receiving it for real, Oikawa gets a little scared and it shows through his next question.

“How could you love someone like me?” He almost whispers, opening his eyes to the ground. His vision is blurry from the tears.

Iwaizumi slaps his doubt away like a pesky fly, reaching a hand to his face to wipe a tear trail away with his thumb only for it to be replaced seconds later. “Beats me. Not like I have much of a choice in the matter.”

By _far_ the worst confession, but for some reason, Oikawa laughs through his tears. “Iwa-chan, you’re so bad at this.”

“Coming from you of all people, that’s rich,” Iwaizumi returns quietly without hesitation. A small smile tugs at the side of his mouth.

Oikawa is shaking his head back and forth, suddenly overwhelmed again and unable to prevent the next wave of tears that well up.

Iwaizumi starts frowning, brows creased. “Why are you crying, Crappykawa?”

“I don’t want you to get over me,” Oikawa blurts out.

Iwaizumi’s frown grows deeper as he wipes away another few tears. “Why not?” He asks gruffly. Oikawa sniffles again, releasing a shaky breath. He probably looks a mess right now, all snot and tears.

“If you love me, then I want to be yours,” Oikawa admits between a hiccup or two.

It sounds like those dumb romance movies or lame love songs, but that doesn’t make it any less true. And the way Iwaizumi flushes after Oikawa says it sets off a blooming warmth inside of his chest. Iwaizumi has seen the best and the worst of him and yet, he still wants Oikawa by his side despite the overwhelming weight of both.

“You’re really dramatic, you know that?” Iwaizumi asks him, fingers moving to brush through his bangs. Oikawa watches Iwaizumi’s dark eyes focusing on his actions intently and his stomach starts hatching fluttering butterflies. Iwaizumi’s only ever been like this with him when they’re sleeping. In broad daylight like this, it’s surprising for him to be so affectionate. Oikawa enjoys it.

Iwaizumi’s eyes meet Oikawa’s again. There’s nothing but sincerity in his gaze. “You’re mine then,” Iwaizumi says simply. His hand drops back to cup his cheek and Oikawa feels his pulse in his ears. “And I’m yours.”

Another snap occurs somewhere inside of Oikawa, but it’s far from a burst of anger this time. It sets Oikawa off bawling like a newborn, small wails coming from him between choked gasps. Iwaizumi looks struck between horrific embarrassment and annoyed concern, unsure of what to do at the sight of him.

Oikawa’s eyes open wide in shock when Iwaizumi’s hands slap both sides of his face suddenly. His attention is completely on Iwaizumi’s hard stare, with the mild exception of the stinging sensation on his cheeks. He’s momentarily stunned by the action.

“There’s a growing puddle on the ground from all your tears.” Iwaizumi comments lowly.

Oikawa makes a disgruntled sound. “I-I can’t help it, Iwa-chan!” His voice sounds a bit steadier, much less hiccupping.

“I know,” Iwaizumi says, eyes softening as he speaks. “Focus on breathing in and out you sap.”

Oikawa does so, focusing his attention on big inhales and exhales until he calms down. Iwaizumi keeps his hands on his face the entire time and he doesn’t mind in the slightest. The two stare at each other a few seconds, before Oikawa chimes in hesitantly.

“Can you kiss me, Iwa-chan?” He asks bashfully, sniffling.

Another flush takes Iwaizumi by surprise and he checks their immediate surroundings first before nodding fervently and grabbing the back of Oikawa’s head to pull him close. Oikawa isn’t expecting such eagerness and makes a small sound of surprise as Iwaizumi tilts his head to press his lips against his own messily.

Sure, it’s inexperienced, but Oikawa’s only protest is that it’s short lived and even though he whines when Iwaizumi pulls back and beckons him to continue walking, he can’t fight the smile that breaks his lips and lights up his puffy eyes. Things already feel a hundred times better. Better than ever, in fact.

“Iwa-chan?”

“Hm.”

“Will you come over for the night? I miss sleeping next to you.”

“It’s a school night, dumbass.”

There’s a pause.

“I’ll sneak out after dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ♥


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